Date
by Jem Kallop
Summary: Six months after Bakura left Marik to seek his revenge on the Pharaoh in ancient Egypt, Marik finds himself thrust into a date night, at Ishizu's insistence. She just wants him to move on, but his 'date', a mysterious stranger, turns out to be more trapped in the past than anything else. Thief/citronshipping, set post-canon but with flashbacks to Battle City and the Memory World.


**So this is basically a oneshot to say that I AM BACK from my travels, and all ready to write again! If you follow my chaptered fics, I shall be returning to my update schedule on Tuesday. Anyway, so, yes, this oneshot happened when I was away. It turned waaay longer than I was expecting, though ^_^ I don't really know whether you'd call this thief or citron shipping, but it is most definitely MarikxBakura haha, so if you enjoy that, then read on! It is set post-canon, but flashes back to various events in Battle City and the Memory World arc.**

**Warnings: Bad language. No lemons/limes/smut, it's literally only rated T for the language XD**

**Disclaimer: Yu-Gi-Oh does not belong to me! Kazuki Takahashi invented these characters!**

**I hope you enjoy! - Jem**

Marik straightened his tie with a reluctant sigh, glancing once into the mirror. His lips twisted into a grimace. He hated looking so formal; the black shirt hung awkwardly off his shoulders, fitting far too loosely around his slender frame, the dark purple tie looking frankly ridiculous as it hung down his chest. Marik's mind was threatening to dip back into a familiar black depression, but he had promised Ishizu that he would try to snap out of it, if only for tonight. He owed her at least that much.

"Are you almost ready, brother?"

There was a soft knock at the door, accompanied by a familiar swish off fabric and a comforting, exotic scent that floated wistfully through the air. Sure enough, Marik's sister's face soon appeared in the mirror, as calm as ever. Her fingers slowly slipped around his neck and she undid the tie, smoothly knotting it again, straightening it with a small smile. "I don't know. Nineteen years old and you still can't dress yourself."

The corners of Marik's lips twitched into a feeble resemblance of a smile. "Forgive me if I'm a little nervous."

Ishizu's expression closed a little, her brow dipping. "Surely you've been on dates before?"

"Please." Marik couldn't hold back a snort. "You knew him, Ishizu. How often do you think we actually _dated_?"

Despite herself, Ishizu laughed, her lips stretching into a smile. She finished knotting the tie, straightening it a little before she wrapped warm arms around her brother, resting his chin on her shoulder. Their eyes met in the mirror, warm blue on dull violet.

"Promise me you won't think about him today," Ishizu murmured, her breath warm on Marik's cheek.

Marik flinched despite himself, his gaze instantly dropping down to the floor and his shoulders sagging. He shifted uncomfortably.

Ishizu sighed. "Brother, today is about a new beginning. You have to learn to move on."

"And I'm sure a dating site is the best way to do that," Marik scoffed in sarcastic response, his eyes rolling exaggeratedly in the mirror.

Ishizu smiled briefly, holding him tightly. "I have a good feeling about this one. And Odion and I will be in the same restaurant, should you feel uncomfortable."

"I'll be _feeling uncomfortable_ the entire time," Marik muttered sullenly, tugging at the collar of his shirt.

Ishizu caught his hands and brought them back down to his sides. She turned Marik away from the mirror, meeting his gaze with a stern expression and determined eyes, refusing to let him move away. "You are going to have fun, Marik," she began, tone strong. "It's been six months. He isn't coming back. You have to start making your own life now."

Ishizu's words hit Marik like ice water, sending sharp stalactites straight into his heart. His body crumpled a little in her firm grip. It didn't matter how often he heard the words, how often he chanted the facts to himself over and over in the dead of night; Marik still instantly rejected them. Because Bakura couldn't be gone. Bakura never dies.

Ishizu caught Marik's expression and her gaze softened. She brushed one thumb against his cheek. "I'm sorry to put it so bluntly, but you have got to start moving forwards. Sitting in this depression is self-destructive."

Marik allowed his eyes to slip closed, Ishizu's familiar comments floating around in his skull. He had heard everything she said a thousand times before, but nothing had been enough to rouse him out of the past. What was the point of moving forwards when everything he wanted was behind him? The only reason he was going on this ridiculous 'date night' was to shut Ishizu up for a bit, maybe even to prove her wrong so that she would leave him alone and let him sit in morbidity for the rest of the days. Or until Bakura came back, which Marik had no doubt he would. Eventually. For now, though, Marik was just fine with clinging on to every last tendril of his previous life with that good-for-nothing thief.

Ishizu held him close. "Just promise me you'll try tonight, brother."

Marik pulled himself out of his thoughts reluctantly to find Ishizu's clear blue gaze trained directly on him. She had done so much, taking him in after everything fell apart, getting him into college, putting up with his tears and tantrums, his endless dark moods. She and Odion has been the pillars holding up Marik's life after the collapse of his supporting foundations.

"Alright, Ishizu." Marik's voice was quiet. "I'll try."

...

Light grey eyes swirled with darkness as they peered out of a shadowy face, features dark and twisted, fists clenched. One corner of a slitted mouth pulled up, a dark chuckle, quickly stifled, floating through the air almost intangibly. He waited, knowing that the one he sought would be showing up any minute now. Everything had been set up perfectly. This plan, unlike so many of his others, could _not_ fail.

A tongue swiped out, licking dark brown lips as a red jacket fluttered in the darkness of the alley. Grey eyes pierced through the lengthening shadows of evening, staring determinedly at the restaurant across the road. It was already busy and filling up, and he knew that his prey would be arriving soon. The anticipation burned a hole in his gut.

It didn't take long for the sight he longed for to approach; three familiar figures walked down the street adjacent to the alley he hid in, one tall and silent, one stern and comforting, the third so painfully familiar that he had to physically stop himself from leaping forwards and claiming once more what was rightfully his. Blond locks slid down his prey's smart black shirt, his achingly familiar scent ghosting across the space between them as he passed close enough to the alley to touch.

Grey eyes clouded with yearning.

The blond figure with the two at his sides crossed the road away from the alley, becoming one of the throng entering the restaurant. The shadow in the alley watched with calculating movements, a corner of his dark mouth pulling up once more. One dark chuckle escaped.

This was going to be _fun_.

...

"Are you sure you have everything you need?"

Marik bit back a frustrated growl, blowing strands of blond hair out of his eyes impatiently as he tried to ignore his sister's incessant fussing. "Yes, Ishizu. I have my phone and my wallet. I'll drop my napkin if I need you and Odion to rescue me. Now, will you please stop worrying?" Marik was already feeling incredibly awkward, wanting nothing more than to be out of this hellish situation. What the hell would he and his 'date' even talk about? Marik hadn't exactly led the most normal life, and he had never before had to make small talk. How was he supposed to introduce himself? 'Hi, I'm Marik Ishtar, former-tomb-keeper-turned-evil-mastermind-turned-r eformed-college-student? Yeah, right. The guy would just look at him like he was insane. Which, in all honesty, Marik probably was.

If Ishizu wanted to torture him, she couldn't have picked a better way than to force him to spend an evening chatting with a total stranger. Marik just wanted it to be over.

"You know where Odion and I are if you need us." Ishizu gave Marik's tie a final tug, kissing his cheek before backing off a little. She chewed the inside of her lip. "And remember, no dwelling on the past. Tonight is about moving forwards."

Marik grimaced, but it quickly turned into a sigh at Ishizu's stern expression. He flapped an irritable hand at her. "Yes, yes, I get the message."

Ishizu gave a final nod before following Odion away to their table at the opposite side of the restaurant, still within easy sight of the rest of the large room. Marik admitted quietly to himself that he was much happier knowing they were nearby, his nerves increasing as he realised what he was about to do. He didn't even really know the guy he was supposed to be meeting. Marik had joined a dating site last month, once again to pacify Ishizu, and this guy calling himself 'Touzoku' had shown up. They had only chatted three or four times since then, and then, last week, Touzoku had asked Marik if he wanted to meet up, completely out of the blue. Marik accepted, at Ishizu's insistence, and here they were today; Marik didn't even know the guy's real name.

"Reservation for M. Ishtar," Marik dully told the waiter, following him into a corner by the window. Marik slipped into his seat and dutifully took the proffered menu, running his eyes over the words without really taking them in, his mind slipping back into the past. How often he wished he had gone out on dates like this with that thief of his past, the one who had come to mean everything only to then tear it all away. With an effort, Marik wrenched his mind away from those morbid thoughts; Bakura was gone, and Marik had missed his chance. He had promised Ishizu that tonight would be about moving on, however much he wanted to dwell on times gone by. Tonight had to be a step into the future, no matter how dark that future might be.

"Marik Ishtar?"

Marik jumped, startled, the menu flying out of his hands and landing with a clatter on the table. A low laugh floated through the air from somewhere behind him, quickly followed by a darkly tanned hand. It scooped up the menu and offered it back to Marik, an amused grey gaze dancing down at him. Marik frowned. _Great. I already look like an idiot._

Marik took the menu with a sigh, opening it again, and watched the newcomer take the seat opposite him. A long red coat flared around a tall figure, hood pulled forwards over the stranger's head and casting his features in deep shadow. All that Marik could make out were those light grey eyes, and a dark slit of a mouth as it opened for speech. "You are Marik Ishtar, I presume?"

Marik nodded slowly, his eyes narrowing. Something about that dark voice tickled his memory, teasing at his skull, but Marik brushed the thought away irritably. Instead, he cocked his head. "I presume you're the guy who calls himself 'Touzoku'?"

Grey eyes blinked, a smirk pulling up one edge of a brown mouth. "That I am."

"Wonderful," Marik muttered sarcastically, his nails digging into the tabletop as he dropped the menu. "Care to tell me your real name?"

"No, not really." The stranger grinned widely beneath the deep red hood, folding his arms and leaning back. "I think you should tell me more about yourself."

Marik looked up, surprised. He allowed his gaze to flick down the form before him, then back up slowly, taking in the casually formal attire of the man before him. He was dark, even for Egyptian complexion, the long red jacket standing out vibrantly against his skin. Grey eyes danced out of his shadowed features, hood still pulled firmly down over his face. "Have you quite finished staring?"

Marik started, cursing inwardly when he realised he had been caught; the man's laughing gaze was turning arrogant. Thankfully, Marik was saved from answering by the arrival of the waiter, and in his haste to be out of this situation Marik simply ordered the first thing on the menu, staring determinedly down at the table. Not appearing to share Marik's haste, the stranger took his time, apparently taking some sort of sadistic delight in making Marik stew in awkwardness. Marik's brow furrowed.

'Touzoku' eventually ordered and the waiter left, taking the menus. Marik sent a hard stare across the table, features heavy as he eyed the man before him with something close to irritation. "Going to tell me your real name yet?"

"Touzoku will do for now," the man said airily, waving a casual hand in Marik's direction. "Although it's more of a title than a name. How old are you now?"

Marik gritted his teeth, almost wanting to punch the man opposite him for blatantly lying. Out of the corner of his eye, however, Marik caught Ishizu's worried expression and forced his features to relax, not wanting to worry her needlessly. His tone, when he spoke, was still a little forced, though. "I'm 19, _Touzoku_."

To Marik's surprise, the grey eyes turned faraway, almost melancholy. "Already 19..."

"I don't know why that matters," Marik cut in, voice flat. "If you're after some boy to molest, I'll get up and leave right now."

A strong grey gaze instantly pinned Marik in place. The dark voice turned firm and intense, sending shivers sliding inexplicably down Marik's spine. "No. Nothing like that. Honestly, I expected better from you."

Marik refused to look away. "I don't know why. You barely know me."

Grey eyes seared into him. "We've spoken four times before."

"Yeah, _online_." Marik shook his head, closing his eyes for a moment. "What the hell am I doing here?"

"Now, that's what I'd like to know."

The dark voice was hardly more than a murmur, leaving Marik struggling to catch the words.

Marik blinked. "...Excuse me?"

Grey eyes watched him, hidden interest burning in their gleam. "What on earth is an attractive teenager like yourself doing, going out with the first stranger who picks him up on a dating site?"

Marik's eyes widened, completely unprepared for the question. He didn't want to have to explain his story, to tell a total stranger how his sister forced him into this date to help him move on from his dark and troubled past. Dates were meant to be about small talk, weren't they? Discussing hairstyles and outfits, not going straight into personal life stories. Marik would not open up to a complete stranger.

"I'm still waiting," Touzoku's dark voice commanded.

Marik shot him a glare. "My sister wanted me to meet more people." There. Clear-cut, short, simple. Marik would not tell more.

"And since when have you listened to what she said?" Grey eyes twinkled with obvious amusement. "Being a good little boy and doing what everyone tells you, hm?"

Marik's glare darkened. "You wouldn't understand."

"Try me." Grey eyes pinned Marik firmly in place.

Marik bit down hard on the inside of his cheek, doing his damnedest not to let this stranger rile him too much. How dare he just waltz in here and assume he knew anything about Marik's life? How dare he _question_ Marik, as if he had any _right_ to speak to him? Marik caught sight of Ishizu and Odion again and considered simply opting out; all it would take was one drop of his napkin and he would be away from this awful situation.

But then the waiter arrived with their food.

Marik dug his fork in angrily, pointedly ignoring the man sat opposite him, not caring if he was being rude.

"You still haven't answered my question."

Marik glowered at his plate, speaking around a mouthful. "Why should I? You haven't answered any of mine."

"You haven't asked anything worth my time." The man leaned forwards a little, hood slipping slightly to reveal more of his handsome, shadowed face. "Tell me."

Marik continued to glare, dropping his fork and folding his arms. "I don't want to."

"And why not?" The man rested his chin on one hand, fixing Marik with an intense gaze. "Isn't the whole point of this to get to know each other?"

Marik sighed, realising that this so-called Touzoku wasn't going to drop the subject. Marik fidgeted uncomfortably in his seat. "I ... my sister is worried about me because my ... my last boyfriend, he ... left..."

"Left?"

Marik looked up to see on brow quirked on the stranger's face. "He must have been an idiot to leave you."

"He didn't want to," Marik hastened to add. "We were happy. He didn't want to go, but ... but he had to..."

Grey eyes darkened. A stern brow furrowed.

Despite himself, Marik started to speak. "He and I were living together, but he had to get rev – he had a job to do. It was dangerous." Marik's face fell flat. "I didn't want him to go. But he went anyway. And he hasn't come back." Marik's eyes closed, his head swimming in a dull haze as he tried not to get lost in his past. He had promised Ishizu...

"And your sister wants you to move on?"

Marik slowly opened his eyes again to see a grey gaze firmly trained on his face. He swallowed. It had been a long time since anyone had scrutinised him so closely, and Marik was a little afraid of what this Touzoku might find ... just how much of his troubled past was evident on his face...

Marik nodded.

Touzoku leaned back in his seat, tugging the hood forwards so it once more cast his face deep in shadow. "But you don't want to move on."

Marik instantly dropped his gaze, his expression hardening. He was not going to just spill his emotions at a total stranger; not even Ishizu and Odion knew how Marik felt. No one knew that he cried himself to sleep every night, his dreams plagued with happy memories of that white-haired thief, only for him to wake up in the morning and realise all over again that Bakura was gone, and the pale arms around his waist were mere phantom memories...

There was a creak as Touzoku placed his hands on the table. He stared directly at Marik, gaze firm, tone commanding. "Tell me about him."

Marik's head instantly shot up, his eyes going wide. Someone actually wanted to hear about Bakura? Marik had no one to remember him with; at least, not anyone who would remember him fondly. Ishizu constantly encouraged him to forget his time living with Bakura, and Odion just wanted him to be happy, when thinking about Bakura made him sad. To remember him, to truly remember him, would warm Marik's heart.

A small smile graced Marik's lips as he glanced down at the table, absent-mindedly picking at his food. "His name was Bakura. He used to follow me everywhere, always watching, even when I didn't want him anywhere near me. He was the most sarcastic person I have ever met." Marik's smile widened. "He'd make fun of everything I did, but if I ever snapped back he'd just smirk and laugh and kiss me. He drove me up the wall, but I love everything about him."

Silence fell over their table as Marik stopped talking, and for a moment he worried that he had revealed too much. But then Touzoku spoke again, quietly, his voice full of an emotion that Marik couldn't place. "Tell me how you first met him."

Marik complied without thought, his mind instantly sliding back to a sunny day in Domino, when Marik first set foot on dry land that wasn't Egypt. It had been so dizzying, out in the real world, no underground prison he was held ransom to. "I was on my way to a tournament when he stopped me in the street. He wanted something I owned, so I made him a deal; if he helped me win the tournament, I would give him the Item he desired..."

...

_"You're an insufferable brat."_

_"Maybe so." I couldn't resist a cruel smile, my eyes once more running over the pale form before me. I could certainly use him. "But if you want my Millennium Rod, and the Necklace held by my sister, then you will do as I say."_

_Brown eyes narrowed to slits. "You would give up the Items just to win a child's tournament? Foolish boy."_

_White-hot anger instantly flared in my gut. I advanced towards him, furious, my motorbike forgotten behind me as I backed him into a wall. "This goes much deeper than a simple _tournament_," I spat scathingly. "I wouldn't expect the likes of you to understand."_

_"Would it, perchance, be to do with the Pharaoh?" The pale man seemed unfazed, his arrogant smirk amused in the shadows of the dark alley._

_I stopped short. The question certainly surprised me; perhaps this other teenager knew more than I gave him credit for. I frowned at him, Rod gripped tightly in my right hand. "Just what do you know about that?"_

_"A great deal more than you," the pale one scoffed, crossing his arms and tilting his chin up arrogantly, just the way that I would come to recognise as his signature stance._

_My brows knitted together and I hissed, backing him further against the wall, not that he seemed bothered. I was seething inwardly, but my voice merely came out as a low hiss. "Do not presume things about me. I know a great deal more than you would expect. Now, do we have a deal or not?"_

_One corner of his mouth lifted into a smirk. "You need to work on that attitude of yours."_

_"Asshole!" I cursed loudly, only realising my mistake when he laughed. How dare he get to me like that? How dare he _presume_ things about me? I would not let him make me lose control again._

_"Is it beyond your capabilities to give me a straight answer?" I growled through gritted teeth. "I'm a busy man. Either join me or let me pass; your choice."_

_The smirk didn't leave his face as he regarded me with coldly amused brown eyes. "I'll work with you, Marik Ishtar, for as long as it suits me. I expect the Rod and the Necklace as payment for my services."_

_"You will get them when you have done your job." I narrowed my eyes at him. How could I best put him to use? I still needed a way to get close to the Pharaoh, after all, and he seemed to know about Yugi and his little gang of friends; his knowledge of the Pharaoh was surprising, but certainly useful. "How well do you know the one called Yugi?"_

_His expression immediately dropped, features closing into an impassive mask only betrayed by his darkly burning brown eyes. "He and I have clashed for far longer than you could possibly imagine."_

_My interest was immediately piqued. "How so?"_

_"That is no business of yours." His tone was sharp and grating, eyes boring into me._

_I arched a brow, running my gaze once more over his thin, apparently fragile form, once more taking in the Ring hanging about his neck. The cogs in my mind slowly began to turn, joining jumbled information I had picked up into one smooth line as I began to piece together just who I was talking to._

_I had to admit that I was a little awed._

_"You know," I began slowly, careful to watch his impassive expression. "There are tales surrounding that Item of yours. Stories of how the Ring possesses the ancient spirit of a once-great Thief King, much as the Puzzle holds the soul of the Pharaoh."_

_His face remained a mask, but his eyes were burning again._

_I flipped a hand at him. "Of course, I never believed them. But it was curious, how the Ring always seemed to disappear. The other Items have always been fairly easy to track – the Puzzle in the tomb of the Pharaoh, the Rod and Necklace guarded by my family, the others watched over by the spirit named Shadi." My lips twisted into a sneer at the mere mention of that name. "But the Ring has passed from hand to hand seemingly at random. Unless it was directed by an ancient evil spirit, of course."_

_His expression dimmed._

_I smirked, looking him up and down once more. "And now, I wonder, just how is it that a seemingly average teenage boy like yourself knows so much about the Items and their ancient powers? Unless you're only borrowing the body, of course. _Thief King."

_He looked truly angry now._

_I narrowed my eyes at him, folding my own arms to match his casual stance. "I'm right, aren't I?"_

_He was silent for another long, drawn-out moment before he finally spoke, voice like a knife against stone. "You know far too much for your own good, _boy_."_

_I couldn't help but take a small step back, understanding dimly that I was dealing with a deep and ancient evil here. Not that I was backing away, though._

_"Good." I nodded once. "I could definitely use you."_

_His expression flared with anger and he took a threatening step forwards, but I ignored him and continued, "I need a way to get close to Yugi without him suspecting me of anything."_

_He chewed his lip, brows furrowed. When he spoke, it was with obvious reluctance. "My ... host is counted amongst their friends. I can introduce you."_

_"Host?" I quirked a brow. "I presume you mean the body you inhabit." At his curt nod I pursed my lips, thinking it over in my mind. There had to be a better way of going about this than a simple _introduction._ "You can pretend to be your host?"_

_"Child's play," he sneered, obviously still put out by my commanding tone._

_I nodded once. "Then cut yourself."_

_"Excuse me?" His expression became very dark very quickly._

_I ignored him. "Cut yourself so that I can help you by leading you back to Yugi. He'll see me as a helpful bystander; perfect cover."_

_Pale lips curled up into a sneer. "You know how many things could go wrong with that plan, _brat_?"_

_I impatiently blew blond hair out of my eyes. "You can argue with me later. For now, just do it – Yugi and that irritating gang of his could come by any second."_

_He held my gaze for another long moment, his face once again schooled into an impassive mask, until I began to think that he would simply walk away and leave me on my own. Just as my lips were turning down into a disappointed scowl, an arrogant smirk crossed his features. Without another word, his hand dove under his clothes and he pulled out a blade, instantly slashing his left shoulder faster than I could blink._

_I didn't say a word as I caught his collapsing body._

...

"I didn't really think he would do it."

Marik's voice was soft as his nails dug into the cracked wood of the restaurant table, eyes faraway and slightly tender. "But he did. Without even questioning my motives."

"Perhaps he was as intrigued by you as you were by him." Touzoku's voice was carefully neutral, but Marik thought he caught some hidden emotion in it, although he couldn't place exactly what the stranger was hiding.

Marik looked up with a frown. For once, the stranger wasn't looking at him; instead, he was seated slightly turned away from the table, his deep red hood covering his face in a cobweb of dark shadows. Marik fought back the urge to lean forwards and tug it back, revealing the hidden face underneath.

"Tell me more," Touzoku ordered abruptly. "What happened after that? How did the two of you get together?"

"Well..." Marik stopped, tilting his head as he gazed at the man opposite him. "Why the hell are you interested? We're on a date – I thought my previous relationship would be the last thing you wanted to talk about."

Touzoku snorted derisively. "Please. You're quite clearly still in love with Bakura. Let's be honest; all we're doing here is putting on a show for your siblings. At least this gives us something to talk about."

Marik blinked, but he was more than happy with that answer as it meant he could talk about Bakura some more. Marik settled more comfortably into his seat, shooting Ishizu a small smile before he continued with his story.

"I guess Bakura's and mine 'relationship' started in Battle City, on the blimp. He cornered me there before the duels started..."

...

_"Get the hell out of my room." My tone was flat and dark._

_That ever-present smirk was back on his face as he regarded me with calm brown eyes. "That is no way to treat me, Ishtar, as you should know by now."_

_"Oh, really?" I couldn't help but match his sarcastic tone, flopping back on my bed, exhausted and irritated. "Because you've failed me every step of the way so far."_

_His expression immediately dipped. He took a seat, uninvited, on the edge of the bed, glaring down at me with dark, shadowy eyes. "Don't test me, Ishtar. So far I have done everything you asked; Yugi doesn't suspect you because of my actions, correct? And I am here in the tournament, am I not, despite the inadequate warning you gave me." His lips twisted up in amusement. "Don't blame your failed plans on me."_

_I sat up straight, furious. Bakura never failed to drive me crazy, pushing me further out of control than anyone else had ever managed, even in my life in the tomb. My expression was dangerous as I turned on him. "My plans are not failing!"_

_"Oh, really?" He quirked a brow, arrogantly amused. "I seem to recall several duels that your mind slaves have lost you so far."_

_An angry hiss shot through my lips as my hands curled into fists by my sides. Who was this spirit, to speak to me like that? Bakura had no right! I felt white hot anger flow through my veins as I sent Bakura the darkest look I could muster. "Don't you fucking judge me."_

_Bakura's smirk lifted, only serving to make my anger rise. He held his hands up, faux-submissive. "I'm only saying what I have observed. You'll never defeat the Pharaoh at this rate."_

_"Not your fucking problem," I hissed, pulling my knees up to my chest as I furrowed my brows, glowering at him. "All you need to concern yourself with is doing exactly what I tell you."_

_His brown eyes seared with anger, sending an arrogant smile to my lips. I wasn't the only one with a quick temper. Grinning, I needled him further. "You know your place, Ring Spirit. I am your commander and you must obey me without question."_

_He snarled. "Watch your words, brat."_

_"Be careful who you're insulting." I deliberately reached for the Rod at my belt, slowly turning the gold between my fingers. The Eye pierced out from its top, searing straight through me. I avoided looking at it. "I might decide I have no further use of you, and I will keep _my_ Item all to myself."_

_Unwittingly, I had pushed a step too far._

_In seconds, he was on top of me, shoving me over until my back met the mattress. His borrowed pale hands landed either side of my head as he leaned right over me, far too close for comfort. Brown eyes burned and I swallowed._

_"_Brat_," he hissed at me. "You should remember just who you're talking to." His nails dug into the sheets, bunching the fabric by my face, his breath hot on my skin as his gaze seared into mine. "That Item is not and never has been _yours_."_

_I refused to let my discomfort show on my face. I wriggled beneath him on the mattress, attempting to throw him off, but his fingers found my wrists and pinned me to the bed. I glared up at him. "I have more of a claim to it than you, _Thief._"_

_He snarled, an animalistic sound that sent shivers racking down my spine. "You have no idea what you're fucking with here, _child_. I have more of a right to those Items than anyone on this whole damn planet, and I'll go to hell before I see them left in the hands of the likes of you and the fucking _Pharaoh_."_

_His tone was harsh, grating and unforgiving, burning with a dark passion I had never known before. I glared up at him, hating how easily he had me trapped, and continued to dig with a furious voice. "You have no right to them. You're just some petty thief after a gold fix –"_

_Before I knew what was happening, pale hands had grabbed my wrists and pulled them over my head, nails scratching at my skin. Bakura squatted on my stomach and pressed his face closer to mine, and for one dizzying second I thought he was going to kiss me. His mouth was dangerously close, his brown eyes burning as his breath mingled with mine. He leaned closer and my stomach clenched in anticipation..._

_"You know nothing."_

_His voice was a low hiss, dark and dangerous. He stayed impossibly close for half a moment more, our chests pressed tightly together, before he drew back and pushed away from the mattress, releasing me. When I scrambled enough of my senses together to sit up, he was standing on the other side of the room with his back to me. His fists were clenched by his sides. "You know nothing of me, nor the Pharaoh, not the Items' beginnings, _brat_. So just shut your pouty little mouth."_

_I pushed back the inevitable flare of anger, instead choosing to examine his trembling form. He seemed more tense than usual, his shoulders bunched between the fabric of his simple blue shirt, body stiff as he stared steadfastly away from me._

_I tilted my head, burning with curiousity. "The Items' beginnings? What do you know of that?"_

_He snarled without facing me. "None of your fucking business."_

_"Something happened to you," I shrewdly guessed, ignoring his warning growl. I shifted further up the bed, closer to his backturned body. "Something happened to you, concerning the Items. Something you blame the Pharaoh for."_

_He span around, fixing me with a piercing stare. "You know far too much for your own good."_

_I smirked, although my eyes were a little wide. "You know something about how the Items began. Where they come from."_

_His gaze narrowed, burning into me, and my stomach flipped when I remembered his face mere inches away from mine._

_One corner of his mouth pulled up. "Enough. You've been analysing me far too much, but I'm not the one betraying his family and everything they've ever worked for to destroy the Pharaoh I am supposed to be serving."_

_I hissed. "I am never serving that bastard."_

_"That's exactly what I mean." Bakura was practically purring. He crawled back up onto the bed, sliding across the sheets towards me even as I edged further and further back. My back hit the headboard and I cursed, growling as he continued to crawl closer. I drew my knees into my chest._

_Bakura tilted his head. "You have some secrets of your own, _Ishtar._ What did the Pharaoh ever do to you?"_

_I glared at him. Pain shot across my back._

_"Touching a nerve, am I?" Bakura's smirk grew as he crawled closer, trapping me. "No witty response? My, my, you must be in trouble."_

_"Shut the fuck up," I managed, but the rebuttal was weak and he knew it._

_"Come now, Marik, we are partners, are we not?" Bakura's voice was deceptively slick and cool, darkened by black humour. "So what was it? Did the Pharaoh take away your favourite rattle?"_

_Instead of rising to the insult, my eyes slipped closed and my head dropped forwards. Darkened images flashed across the back of my skull; tomb, knife, father. I struggled to repress a shudder, not wanting to reveal any weakness in front of Bakura, when I knew for a fact that he would have no qualms about abusing my insecurities. I hissed at him, drawing in a deep breath and forcing my eyes open, fixing him with a dark look. "You know nothing of me, Thief King."_

_A white eyebrow arched. "On the contrary, Ishtar."_

_I frowned at him._

_"I know something of how the Items are kept," Bakura started slowly. He crept further up the bed, his hands landing on my knees, but I did nothing to push him away. I was entranced by his brown eyes, which appeared to be burning with something close to sympathy._

_"I would hazard a guess," he continued, gaze watchful, "That you have spent the majority of your life underground, studying ancient scriptures."_

_My brows lowered._

_"Probably in a tomb." Bakura's voice was low and strangely alluring, his palms warm against my knees. "Brought up in the old ways, old traditions that only I remember. And yet, here you are, breaking thousands of years of rules and laws to take revenge on a Pharaoh that your family has always sworn to protect. I think I would be forgiven my curiousity."_

_I remained silent, watching him with an impassive expression. He was, again, far too close to me, but this time he was looking at me in something very different to anger. As if he knew me. As if he understood my struggles. His words had sent flashes of remembered pain burning down my back, hot images of flames and shadows, stone and scrolls, tormenting my mind._

_But those secrets were not for his ears. At least, not yet._

_Staring straight into his burning brown eyes, I hissed, "You don't know anything about my life."_

_A brown gaze seared straight into me. "I know enough to realise that your childhood can't have been pleasant. Correct me if I'm wrong."_

_Begrudgingly, I remained silent._

_Bakura nodded once, expression strangely calm, before he let go of my knees. He leaned in again, his face close to mine, the Ring clinking about his neck. For another exultant second I thought he would join his lips with mine._

_"Perhaps you and I are more alike than you think."_

_He breathed the words, lips close to my ear, before jumping off the bed and exiting my room, leaving me to my thoughts, the darkness, and the flashes of hot pain that swam around my back._

...

Food forgotten, the man opposite Marik leaned forwards, interest sparking each feature of his face. "Why on earth do you consider _that_ the start of your relationship?"

Marik tilted his head, smile tugging at the corners of his lips. His eyes were faraway, his hands folded on the table, blond hair dripping into his eyes until he blew it away with an irritable puff of air. "Why wouldn't I? It's the first time we ever spoke about our pasts."

Touzoku lifted a brow. "Forgive me, but that scene didn't exactly sound romantic."

"Bakura used to say the exact same thing," Marik chuckled, grinning. "I think you and he would get along."

Touzoku smirked, tipping his head forwards to ensure that every one of his shadowy features was covered. "Tell me more, Marik Ishtar."

Marik blinked a little at the use of his name, something about the way the familiar syllables rolled around in Touzoku's dark voice stirring Marik's memories. He brushed the strange sensations away. "Bakura was the 'Thief King', remember?" Marik's fingers painted apostrophes in the clear, warm air. "He was a self-confessed villain, someone who only ever sought to cause pain in others. But with me, in Battle City, he actually looked for sympathy. He deliberately guessed about my childhood in order to understand me better. He didn't even bother to ask about his greatest enemy, but he took the time to get to know me. That was when I first knew."

Touzoku's features flickered beneath the hood, to quickly and too well hidden for Marik to catch any of his emotions. Marik's fingers itched to pull back that hood, to truly see who he was talking to, but he held himself back with a small shake. That would certainly not please Touzoku, and Marik wanted to talk about Bakura some more.

Grey eyes soon seared out at him, cool and clear and calm, and when Touzoku spoke it was with the same cool, dark voice as always. "Alright, fair enough. But what about the actual start of your relationship? When did you first kiss?"

Marik blinked, cheeks instantly darkening when his mind dipped back into that moment. Touzoku grinned toothily, white gleaming out from beneath his hood as he leaned closer, smirk pulling at his lips. "Go on. Tell me about that."

Marik shifted uncomfortably, but he couldn't hold back the small smile that slipped through his lips. "It ... it isn't such an easy thing to remember. Or explain. In fact, I doubt you'd believe half of it."

"Try me." Touzoku's grey eyes seared straight into Marik, capturing him and holding him firmly in place. Marik felt a small shiver run down his spine.

He shook his head, blond hair waving as he smiled a little. "Alright, I'll try, but you're going to have to suspend your disbelief for a little bit, alright?"

"Just tell me," Touzoku ordered.

Marik screwed his face up. "Don't tell me I didn't warn you when you don't understand. Basically, I haven't always been ... me. Well, at least, not completely. I have always existed, but there was another side to me ... a dark side ... that used to exist in my body as well."

Touzoku remained silent, just watching.

Marik grimaced, memories he would rather keep hidden slowly rising to the surface. He didn't like dwelling on what had happened in Battle City, the time he had lost his body to his dark personality, the one who wanted to destroy everything and anything in sight. But it was an essential part to this story, and one that he knew he needed to tell.

Marik opened his mouth.

"My dark side existed on his own; he was his own personality, totally separate from me. He took over my body and pushed me out, so I was a spirit without form. I lost control of my body, and I went to Bakura for help..."

...

_"I need you."_

_As expected, his burning brown eyes turned almost amused, lit with a bright gleam I recognised as sarcasm. I knew he would be enjoying my predicament. The dark blue walls of his soul room flickered as he lifted his chin arrogantly, folding his arms across his chest. "And why exactly should I help you, brat?"_

_I shivered, balling my hands into fists. I was at my most vulnerable, lost and trembling and shaking, hating how I felt so insubstantial, as if I wasn't even there. My body was lost to a spirit who wasn't me, my own mind and memories cast out and alone, drifting in a sea of nothingness. I was lost._

_"Marik."_

_His voice, calling my name, brought me back. I looked to him with fire in my violet eyes, pleased that he, at least, still knew I existed. I was still real for him, and that was what I needed. Bakura walked over to me, placing his hands on my shoulders as he stared straight at me. "What's happened?"_

_His tone was calm but vibrant, throbbing with emotion as he met my gaze. I sagged a little in his grip, my eyes closing before I opened them again. They became narrow slits in my brown face. "He fucking took over! He took over, and kicked me out, and now I'm just a fucking spirit chucked out of my own body!"_

_I could feel Bakura's surprise in the way his fingers dug into my shoulders. I wasn't brave enough to meet his gaze, though, instead turning away from him to storm around his soul room, throwing my hands up in the air. "He thinks he has some right to take over my life! He is nothing, NOTHING! He destroyed me! He killed my father, he threatened Odion, he's even got the damn Rod! He has everything that is mine!" I raged in white hot anger, throwing myself at one blue-black wall and slipping through it, momentarily forgetting that I was in the realm of shadows. I flung myself away with a snarl, collapsing on my knees with my fists pressed into the dark ground. My voice was broken, quiet. "My own sister didn't recognise me like this. Me, reduced to stealing a teenage girl's mind and seeking the help of a Ring Sprit! _Me!_" Tears slipped down my cheeks, dripping onto my hands, but I knew they weren't real. Nothing was real, now that I had no body._

_Footsteps behind me._

_A hand landed on my shoulder as he came to sit next to me, his breathing slow and calm compared to my ragged gasps. We sat in silence for a few moments as I seethed in silent fury, my body clenched, Bakura a calm pale shadow beside me. He spoke first. "So, you're a spirit like me now, hmm?"_

_"Not for long," I spat. "I'm getting my body back. It's mine by right."_

_I could sense the smirk tugging at his lips. "Careful, or you might offend me. After all, I lost my body thousands of years ago. I've been stealing them ever since."_

_I turned to find his brown eyes boring into me, serious despite his joking tone. I burned with curiousity even through my hopeless, despairing eyes, my brow creasing in confusion. "You lost your body?"_

_He snorted. "Naturally. Did you think I started life as a spirit?"_

_"I ... guess I never thought about it." I blinked and turned away, my brows still furrowed in anger. My whole spirit was crying out, desperate to be recognised as I floated through nothingness, insubstantial. Did I even count as a real person anymore?_

_The pale hand on my shoulder slowly moved, wrapping around me and pulling me closer. Bakura's breath ghosted along my cheek, calm, although when I looked at him he was staring steadfastly forwards, looking at nothing but shadows. I recognised what he was trying to do, though. Here, in his soul room, I was real. I had a form and a body, just as much as he did. We were equal._

_"So, you lost your body." Bakura's voice was calm and matter-of-fact. "What do you expect me to do about it?"_

_I swallowed. With him looking away from me, I had the chance to study his pale, handsome features, the way his eyes burned with hidden fire despite the ice-cold exterior. Could I really trust him with this, with my soul? He was a thief, an ancient harbinger of evil, and yet there I sat, comfortable beside him with his arm around me, about to entrust my entire existence to him. There was something so twisted about that, I was sure it would work._

_"I want you to duel him."_

_Bakura gave no outward sign that he had heard me. My voice felt small and fragile, ridiculous when surrounded by the shadows as we were, but I knew I had to say it. I had to convince him to do this for me, although Gods know he didn't have any real reason to help him._

_"Duel your darker half, hm? Well, that isn't a move I was expecting." His voice was as darkly amused as ever, but when he finally turned to look at me his eyes were, for once, utterly serious._

_I nodded once. "I need to get rid of his soul. A shadow duel is the only way to do that."_

_"You realise that you'll be risking yourself as well?" Bakura arched an eyebrow. "I can't guarantee that your body will remain unharmed."_

_"I know." My eyes slid closed despite myself. I had feared this. A shadow duel carried endless risks, for the body as well as the soul; Bakura's host was proof enough of that. But what choice did I have? I couldn't spend the rest of my life trapped as a spirit, outside of myself, whilst I let that creature do whatever he wanted with my body. I needed to get back, and if that meant risking everything, then that's what I would do._

_Anything to feel real again._

_"I need you to do it." My voice was clear and cutting despite my trembling hands. "Get rid of him for me. Give me back my life."_

_The arm about my shoulders tightened imperceptibly, Bakura's fingers gently – him, gentle? – rubbing along my arm. His words were quiet, lips right by my ear. "You haven't lost your life, Marik. Your spirit still exists."_

_"What is a spirit, without a body?" I responded bitterly._

_The flicker of a smirk tugged at Bakura's lips as he met my despairing gaze. "It's all I am."_

_I stared at him, my whole body shaking, and shook my head in slow disbelief. I couldn't bear being like this, a spirit without true form, for even a few hours, my whole being crying out for physical touch, physical feeling. And yet, there Bakura sat, having remained a bodiless soul for thousands of years, trapped within the cold metal of the Ring. I stared at him in something akin to awe. "How do you stand it?"_

_"Hm?" He pulled himself out of his thoughts, looking back at me with quizzical brown eyes. "How do I stand what?"_

_"This!" I shook, gesturing to myself with a hysterical chuckle. "Not being real, not having a body! How can you stand not being able to touch anything, not being able to feel anything?!"_

_One corner of his mouth pulled up a little as he watched me carefully. Without speaking, he used his grip on my shoulder to turn me to face him, his other arm lifting to encircle me fully. I started a little in his embrace, surprised, but then he pressed his forehead to mine and I stopped breathing, remembering just a few days ago when he cornered me in my room. Then he was so angry, but this time his every touch was soft._

_"You call this not physical?" There was laughter in his quiet tone, but his brown eyes were still serious. He pointedly moved one hand to my cheek, thumb brushing under my eye, and I shivered. "You call this not touch?"_

_I bit my lip. "It isn't real, though."_

_"It's every bit as real as what goes on out there." Bakura's gaze bored into me as he met my eyes, his palm cool against my cheek. I stared back at him, slowly starting to believe his words; I could feel his skin, rough against mine, his breath as it blew across my skin. I lifted a hand and touched his arm, feeling it substantial beneath my hand, and ran my fingers up to his shoulder and down his chest, feeling his heart beating in his ribcage. I wet my lips with my tongue and glanced back up at him, a shiver sliding down my spine when I saw him staring straight at me, gaze imperceptible._

_Before I knew what was happening, our faces were nearing each other and then our lips joined, meeting in the darkness of the shadows._

_We kissed for what felt like hours, his arms tight around me as I clutched on to his jacket, pressing close to him in a bid to feel something other than sadness. We sat on the shadowy floor of his soul room, surrounded by darkness and flickers and flashes, and held each other close, allowing time to pass us by whilst we were safely wrapped in our own cocoon. But it had to end eventually. I knew I had to get my body back, knew I needed to stop my darker half, and I was sure that Bakura could feel the urgency in my movements. He drew back first, his expression as impassive as ever as he met my gaze, arms still firm around me. "Where is this dark version of you, then?"_

_"He wants to go after Odion." I could feel relief bubbling through me, knowing that I had Bakura on my side. I gripped his fingers as I climbed slowly to my feet. "We have to stop him."_

_Bakura merely nodded, although he didn't remove his hand from mine. "I hope you know that I'm not doing this for free."_

_"You'll still get the Items," I promised. "As soon as I'm back in my body and we have defeated him and the Pharaoh, you'll get the Rod and the Necklace."_

_"And yourself as well, I hope." His mutter was almost too low to catch, but I heard him. I turned to face him, a smile tugging at my lips despite myself._

_I merely leaned over and kissed him again before he led me out of his soul room and back into the world of the living._

...

"We lost the duel, though." Marik grinned a little ruefully, playing with the hem of his shirt as he felt Touzoku's gaze searing into him across the table. "But it didn't really matter."

Touzoku arched a brow. He rested his elbows on the wooden surface and rested his chin in his hands, leaning closer to Marik, the hood still hiding most of his features. Light spilled down over his face, revealing those gleaming grey eyes and the tiniest edge of a nose, smirk still tugging at his lips. "It didn't matter that you lost? Why?"

Marik shrugged. "I had him. We were banished to the Shadow Realm, but we were together, so I could cope. I was still desperate for my body back, but it was more to stop my darker half than anything. He was destroying my family, and I had to stop him."

"Which you did." Touzoku's voice was dark. "Or so I would presume."

Marik nodded, eyes distant. He chewed his lip, fingers tugging more insistently at the hem of his black shirt as he shifted uncomfortably in his seat, grimacing. The darkest part of his story was coming up, and Marik wasn't entirely sure that he really wanted to relive it. The time he and Bakura had spent in the Shadow Realm had been difficult, yes, but things got even trickier when Marik was called back out.

"Tell me what happened next."

The words inevitably left Touzoku's lips and Marik visibly winced. To his surprise, however, a dark hand slid across the table and captured one of Marik's own, holding it firmly. When Marik looked up, his gaze fell straight on gleaming grey eyes. "Come on, you've told me this much."

Marik's lips twisted into a rueful smile. "Well, after that, I sort of – I betrayed Bakura."

Touzoku remained silent.

"I didn't mean to, or anything," Marik hastened to add. "I just – I betrayed him."

A quiet chuckle slid through the air. "How on earth can you betray someone without meaning to?"

"I didn't have any choice!" Marik's free hand went to his hair, tugging haphazardly at the golden strands until Touzoku reached up and caught that one, too, bringing both of Marik's hands down to the table and holding them there firmly.

Amused grey eyes searched Marik's face. "Tell me."

"I – " Marik sighed, dropping his gaze down to their interlinked hands, marvelling a little at the warmth and dark luxury of Touzoku's skin. "My dark half pulled me out of the shadows in his duel with the Pharaoh. Then the Pharaoh did this trick, something or other, to get me back in my body and the dark one trapped in the shadows. I forfeited the duel to get rid of him, even though it meant conceding to the man I hated." Marik's mouth curled into a sneer. "I couldn't stand the Pharaoh, but I had to play my part. I grovelled to him. I gave him the secret to his memories, something I had promised Bakura, and then I gave him the Rod and the Ring without a second thought. I basically just handed Bakura over to his greatest enemy!"

There was a heavy silence. Marik stared down at the tabletop, eyes squeezed shut, and as such he completely missed the various expressions that flickered under the hood of the man calling himself 'Touzoku'. Grey eyes showed everything from amusement to anger to forgiveness to question, finally showing a gleam very close to being tender before he schooled his features back into their impassive mask. Dark fingers tightened around Marik's, Touzoku striving to keep his voice even as he spoke. "I can imagine Bakura wasn't best pleased."

"You imagine correctly." Marik couldn't hold back a small snort, chewing the inside of his cheek as he hesitantly looked back up into Touzoku's eyes. "But I didn't completely forget about him. I released his soul from the Shadow Realm. I gave him a way back. But he didn't come straight to me."

"What do you mean?" Touzoku looked faintly interested.

Marik's lips twitched down a little as he glanced away. "I had hoped that he would come straight to me. Follow me back to Egypt and whisk me away from my siblings, if you like. But he didn't. At least, not straight away."

"But he did find you again," Touzoku pointed out, leaning forwards suddenly, his features almost becoming visible to Marik under the red hood. "And he missed you. But he was rather angry, understandably so, after what you did to him."

Marik leaned back, once again taken by surprise. He tilted his head, a confused crease crinkling his forehead as he regarded the grey gaze of the man opposite him. "...How do you know that?"

Something flashed across Touzoku's face. He leaned back suddenly, releasing Marik's hands in favour of crossing his own arms; when he spoke, his tone was bored and disinterested. "It's fairly easy to piece it together."

"...Ok." Marik still looked a little suspicious.

Touzoku noticed his expression and sighed loudly, tipping back in his seat. "Go on then, tell me what happened next. After you betrayed him, what did Bakura do?"

Marik couldn't hold back a chuckle as he remembered the events after Battle City, a smile lighting up his face. "He found me again. It was almost a year after, though; I had gone back to Egypt with my siblings to wait for the Pharaoh's return, although I still hated his guts. I knew I would have a job to do. But then Bakura found me one day, when I was home alone..."

...

_"ISHTAR!"_

_The front door flew open, swinging wildly on its hinges in the stormy Egyptian night. Torrential rain poured down in icy sheets, lacing the air with freezing cold mist, the sand whirling up in the wind. I was seated on the couch in the living room, but I jumped up and ran into the hall at the commotion, staring in something very close to fear at the open frame. Cold air blew my hair up around my head as I stared in shock at the figure standing tall in the door._

_There was no mistaking him._

_White hair dripped down a long black coat, furious brown eyes burning out of a too-pale face. His expression was frigid, locked in absolute anger as he regarded me with a sharp, burning gaze, his lips twisted up into a cold sneer. He advanced one step over the threshold and I backed up about five._

_"Ishtar," he hissed furiously, slamming the door shut behind him; the atmosphere quietened considerably when the rain was locked outside, although it made Bakura no less terrifying. "You fucking bastard."_

_I backpedalled again, eyes wide. All I could think was how impossible this was, how Bakura could not be standing in my hallway right now when my siblings were out and I was all alone, at my most vulnerable. And he was quite obviously pissed. _Really _pissed._

_"You had better start fucking explaining yourself," Bakura snarled again, advancing threateningly. _

_I cursed inwardly when my back hit a wall, biting down hard on the inside of my cheek until I could taste blood. He edged another two steps nearer, close enough for me to smell his familiar scent. He snarled. "Start talking, Ishtar. Right. Now." He drew out the last two syllables, chewing on the words before spitting them out at me._

_I licked my lips nervously._

_He snarled, fists clenching, and I quickly raised my hands in the surrender gesture, scrambling for words. "No, no, fine, you sadist! How the hell did you even get in here?!"_

_"That isn't what I asked you," Bakura snarled, his brows furrowed deeply. He advanced again, black coat swirling, and I cursed the wall at my back that stopped me from escaping. Bakura effectively cut off all my escape routes by placing both his hands either side of me on the wall, leaning so close that I could see the angry red colour bleeding into his brown eyes. He snarled. "Start fucking talking, Ishtar. Why the hell did you betray me?"_

_I swallowed, blinking, guilt tugging at my stomach as I met his furious dark gaze. I had never seen him look so livid, not even when he lost to my dark half. I must have really messed up this time._

_"Ishtar," he ground out between clenched teeth. "If you do not start talking in the next five seconds, I am going to murder you."_

_I didn't doubt a word he said._

_"I didn't betray you!"_

_The words sounded pathetic and were blatantly not true, but I stood my ground bravely, glaring into Bakura's furious brown gaze._

_He growled. "You gave the fucking _Pharaoh_ my Ring. What else would you call that, if not a betrayal?!"_

_"I had no choice," I snarled back, my own anger growing. How dare Bakura presume to walk in on me like this, treating me like some commoner, some servant? I deserved more respect than this, and he knew it._

_Bakura's teeth clacked. "You had a choice. You chose him. Now I want to know why the fuck you would do that, and if you don't answer me I will kill you where you stand." His hand inched towards his belt, where I had no doubt there was a knife, but I stopped him by grabbing his wrist. He glared at me, livid, but I held up a finger, answering as calmly as I could. "I didn't have a choice, Bakura. There was no other way for me to keep my body – I had to do what the Pharaoh wanted. I couldn't have kept his Ring without it looking suspicious, after all."_

_"I don't fucking care how it would have _looked_," Bakura snarled._

_I glowered dangerously at him. "Lucky you. You have your host; you don't need to bother with unimportant things like status and appearances. There was no way the Pharaoh would have let me go free if I hadn't done exactly what he said. Like it or not, Bakura, my hands were tied. End of story."_

_He hissed, apparently not liking that answer. His hands moved again, grabbing my wrists and pinning them easily to the wall as he slammed me back, breath hot on my cheek. His dark brown eyes seared into me. "You should have found another way."_

_"I did everything I could for you!" I felt my anger increase again as I gazed at his insufferable features, remembering how often they had twisted in laughter at me. I spat at him. "I released you from the shadows. I set you free. The only reason you're here today is because of me!"_

_"And what, am I supposed to be _grateful?_" Bakura's tone was scathing, cutting straight through me like a knife through melted butter. "Should I get on my knees and thank you for getting me out of those nasty, awful shadows? I am the darkness, Marik!"_

_I hissed at him. "That doesn't mean anything and you know it. I did all I could for you – "_

_"You abandoned me there!"_

_Bakura's words brought me up short._

_He continued to gaze right at me, his face edging half an inch closer until our noses were almost touching. He was breathing heavily, his chest rising and falling raggedly; he was more wound up than I had ever seen him before. "You fucking left me, Marik. You left me to rot in the shadows without a second thought, so don't you dare say you did me a damn favour by getting me out of there if you never even wanted to see me again."_

_I stared._

_He snorted at the sight of me, shaking his head. He released my wrists and backed up a couple of steps, never removing his gaze from me even as I winced, my sore arms coming back down to fold across my torso. I regarded him carefully for another few seconds before daring to attempt to speak._

_"I didn't abandon you." I bit the already-bleeding inside of my cheek. "My dark half dragged me out to use me in that duel. Then the Pharaoh managed to switch us and I had no choice but to forfeit and give him everything he wanted. I set you free, though, and I thought you'd come and visit me. But you didn't. It was you that left me, Bakura, not the other way around."_

_Bakura continued to stare at me with fire in his eyes. When he made no move I cautiously pushed away from the wall, edging another couple of steps forwards until I was right in his space, breathing the same air. He didn't pull away, even when I took both of his hands and interlocked our fingers._

_We didn't speak, not at first. His forehead was creased, his features set into a dark scowl as he glared down at our joined hands, white hair falling down around his face. I took the time to study his expression, remembering how well I had come to know him in our time together in the shadows. Bakura had comforted me when I sobbed, when I thought I had lost everything. He reminded me that I was still a person, that I still existed despite what my dark half said. And then I had thrown it all away, to help a damn Pharaoh whom I didn't even care about._

_It all just seemed so worthless._

_"I didn't leave you," Bakura commented abruptly, his voice harsh and grating._

_I blinked. "What?"_

_"I didn't fucking leave you." Bakura pulled his hands out of my grip and folded his arms across his torso, chin lifting again into his typical arrogant stance. "I had business to take care of when I finally got out of the Shadow Realm."_

_I arched a brow. "Business? Like what?"_

_"Like nothing you need to know about." He sneered, but there was a distinct lack of venom to it this time. I couldn't help but smile. He caught the expression and smirked in return, blowing white hair out of his eyes. "You aren't on my list of priorities, Ishtar."_

_"And yet, here you are." I couldn't stop a small smile from gracing my lips. "Same as ever."_

_Bakura's only response was a small twitch of his lips, but it was enough to break the remaining tension between us._

_I smiled as I led him through into the living room, getting us both drinks before collapsing next to him on the sofa. "You know, you were the most useless mind slave I had."_

_A white eyebrow arched dangerously._

_I continued with a grin. "You hardly ever did what I told you, you blatantly disobeyed me, like when you decided to protect your damn host rather than follow my instructions, and when I went to you for help you ended up getting us both banished to the Shadow Realm. You were absolutely useless, and no help at all. No wonder the Pharaoh managed to win the tournament again."_

_Bakura growled, but the sound was more playful than anything as he turned his baleful brown stare on me. "Please, Ishtar. You were the one who held us back. In fact, we would have won that tournament if it weren't for your inability to keep control of your own body."_

_I pushed his shoulder, mock glaring, and he smirked. His expression soon changed, however, dipping into a frown as he regarded me coolly. "You still owe me, Ishtar."_

_"Excuse me?" I arched a brow, hugging my knees into my chest as I stared at him._

_He pursed his lips. "You promised me the secret to the Pharaoh's memories. I never got it."_

_"I – what?" I tilted my head, thinking fast as I tried to remember what he was talking about. "What do you mean?"_

_He blew a sigh between his lips, smirking at me again. "Is your memory that bad? When I was duelling your dark half for you, you promised me you'd tell me the secret of the Pharaoh's power. I'm calling you on it; spill."_

_My mouth fell open. "But – you – you cannot be serious."_

_"Deadly." His gaze bored into mine._

_"You didn't even win that duel!" I stood up from the sofa, pointing at him angrily as I paced the threadbare carpet, other hand balled into an angry fist at my side._

_Bakura watched me; I could feel it. "You still owe me."_

_"I owe you nothing!" I was seething, turning on him with a furious violet gaze, features twisted into an expression of absolute loathing. "You don't have any fucking right to come in here and demand it of me."_

_"I have every right." Bakura's voice was quiet, but I still caught every word. "You know what you have to do. Now show it to me."_

_I snarled and spat, whole body tensing, ready to pounce, but he was up off the sofa in seconds, drink forgotten as his hands landed on my shoulders. I growled and tried to get away from him but he held me steady, brown eyes searing straight into my very soul, or so it felt._

_Silence held for a long few moments before Bakura spoke, his pale jaw setting. "Show me your back."_

_My eyes widened despite myself. "How the fuck do you know about – "_

_"My host is friends with Yugi," Bakura reminded me impatiently. "It wasn't hard to find out. Now turn around and show me your damn back, before I strip you myself."_

_I glared furiously at him, hands bunching into fists again, but he actually started to move his fingers to the hem of my shirt. I jumped away angrily. "Get the hell off me!"_

_"Show. Me." The words tore between his lips like daggers._

_I held his gaze for another minute before answering. "...Fine. Fucking fine, bastard."_

_Without another word, I span on my heel and tore my shirt off, hissing as the fabric stuck on the multitude of scars marring the skin of my back. I shivered in the cold air of the living room, goosebumps rising on my flesh, although whether that was down to the temperature or Bakura's closeness I wasn't entirely sure. I could feel his brown eyes boring into me._

_I remained tense and unmoving as the minutes stretched on, my shoulders bunched and my hands clutched tightly into fists, anger still seething through my brain. I had never wanted Bakura to see this. It was my shame, my burden, and I wanted him to have nothing to do with it; I didn't want him to see the worst part of me._

_My eyes widened in shock when I felt a cold finger begin to trace the patterns._

_"It doesn't say much," Bakura commented conversationally over my shoulder, tone even, as if he wasn't casually running his hands over every inch of my back. "Just that the Pharaoh needs to go to the tomb with the God cards if he wants to get his memories back."_

_I snarled. "I know what it fucking says. I was there when they carved it into my damn flesh."_

_Bakura seemed totally unfazed by the anger in my tone. "Nevertheless, it can still be useful to me. I must start planning, it would seem."_

_Despite myself, my curiousity was piqued again. I pulled out of his grip and span around to face him, still bare-chested as I tilted my head quizzically. "Planning for what?"_

_"My ultimate revenge." Brown eyes met my gaze calmly._

_I arched a brow, confused, but he ignored me in favour of placing his hands back on my shoulders and spinning me around again, continuing to trace over each and every one of my scars. I couldn't stop the shivers from running down my spine at his every touch, my bare skin shivering under every brush of his fingertip as I responded to each and every movement along my back. My scars were super-sensitive, having never been touched before, and I couldn't stop myself from wriggling in something very close to pleasure._

_If he noticed, he didn't comment. At least, not verbally. But his finger was soon replaced by two, then three, and then before I knew it both his hands were on my back, running over the flesh and massaging as they went, gently caressing every scar. I gasped at first, my eyes closing, but as he continued down the scars I couldn't stop a small groan from escaping my lips. Bakura continued to move his hands along my back, relaxing my muscles with every motion until I began to drop a little, knees going weak. I sucked in a breath, embarrassed that he could get to me so easily. But, at the same time, he was certainly managing to make me feel good._

_He soon reached the base of my spine, hands lingering there for a good few seconds more before his palms left me. Pale fingers danced along my shoulders again before Bakura span me back around, and for once, his expression wasn't an unreadable, impassive mask. Instead, his brown eyes were tinged with a sorrowful, almost sympathetic edge, and his features were turned into something that almost resembled ... caring._

_We were silent for a few minutes more before he finally spoke. "They must have hurt like hell."_

_My lips twitched at the understatement. "Absolute, endless agony."_

_He nodded once, jaw clenching, before he tugged me nearer, crushing me to him in a wordless hug. His fingers again rubbed lightly across my scars and I drew in a shaky breath, my own arms carefully winding around him, keeping him in place. He rested his head on my shoulder and I buried my face in white hair, breathing in his familiar scent and remembering the other times we had been this close, in the darkness of the Shadow Realm, or before then, when we had kissed in his soul room. I still couldn't really believe that he had definitely come back for me._

_As if reading my thoughts, Bakura pulled back slightly, although his fingers remained firm against my back, arms encircling me. He met my gaze with the smallest of smirks tugging at his lips before he leaned forwards and claimed my mouth with his own._

...

Marik drifted into silence once more, his gaze still distant, a softer look about his features this time as he tilted his head, lost in his memories. Grey eyes watched him carefully from across the table, dark lips twitching. Marik looked unintentionally cute. Blond locks framed his face, softly glowing in the dim lights of the restaurant, and his violet eyes were brightened with a light gleam at his memories, although they were still far duller than they should have been. Dark fingers twitched by the red jacket, itching to reach out and hold Marik close, but he knew it was not quite time yet. There was one more thing to remember.

"Tell me how he left."

Marik frowned, giving his head a quick shake as he was pulled out of the realm of his memories. He looked back across the table, this time to find that Touzoku wasn't looking at him. Instead, the red-coated man was twisted away from the table, arms crossed over his muscular chest as he steadfastly refused to look at Marik.

Marik cocked his head. "...Excuse me?"

"Tell me how he left," Touzoku repeated, his dark voice vibrant with an emotion that Marik couldn't quite place.

Despite himself, Marik winced. His mind immediately scuttled away from those memories, wanting to linger on the happier times, the year he and Bakura had spent living together before he had been torn away to the Memory World, determined to seek out his revenge, despite Marik's objections. Marik drew in a shaky breath. "I'd really rather not."

"Come now." Touzoku remained facing firmly away from Marik. "You've told me this much. You've got to finish the story now."

Marik bit down on his lower lip, watching the hooded man with careful violet eyes. His depression was only just barely at bay, and remembering something like this would only bring more pain...

And yet, Marik found himself speaking.

"It was six months ago," Marik began with a sigh. "Bakura had this ... job to do. He's been working on it for years, since long before I knew him, and I couldn't expect him to give it all up just because he'd met me. We'd been together a year when the time came, and we shared a house by then. My siblings weren't exactly happy about it, but there was nothing they could do to stop me. I wanted to be with Bakura, at whatever cost."

Marik's face hardened. "I tried to get him to stay. I tried to make him realise what an idiot he was being, how he was too stubborn for his own good. If he went through with it, I would actually have to work against him! But I couldn't stop him. He left. And I ... I had my own duties to fulfil. And the Pharaoh won, and Bakura never came back."

Marik's violet eyes dulled.

Grey eyes bored into him, gaze so intense it was almost painful. When the dark voice spoke, it was with almost intangible pain. "...Tell me about the moment he left."

Marik winced, his eyes clouding over. He looked up to meet that grey gaze, pleading. "Do I have to..."

"Yes." Touzoku's voice was unforgiving. "Tell me."

Marik sighed, allowing his head to drop into his hands. A sob shook his shoulders as he started talking. "I came home to find him about to walk out the door. He wasn't even going to tell me he was going..."

...

_"You think you can just walk out of here without telling me?!" I glared, fury making my words sharp as I advanced two steps nearer, placing myself firmly between Bakura's stubborn body and the door._

_Brown eyes weren't even angry as they regarded me. Bakura looked more resigned than anything, breathing a low sigh as he watched me, his arms carefully placed by his sides. "It wouldn't make any difference, Marik. We must part ways. It doesn't matter if you don't know when it has to happen."_

_"We do not have to 'part ways'," I hissed, walking right up to him as I dug my fingers into the crooks of his elbows, violet eyes narrowed in partial fury. "You don't have to go."_

_He sighed. "Yes, I do."_

_"No, you don't," I argued stubbornly, my nails digging painfully into the material of his long black trench coat. "It doesn't have to be anything to do with you."_

_He blew out a sigh impatiently, his lips pursing as he regarded me with coldly disinterested brown eyes. "You know full well that this is everything to do with me."_

_"You can't risk it," I immediately argued. "You can't risk your soul – "_

_"_Marik."

_My name, so familiar, sounded utterly different on that day, drawn with such impatience from such usually loving lips. Bakura watched me with a closed expression, his features drawn back into his impassive mask. "You always knew this day was coming. You knew I would have to leave, to get revenge for my people. I told you that right from the start, so don't you fucking dare try to stop me now."_

_I growled at him. "I can't just let you walk out of here! The Pharaoh is going to reclaim his memories, Bakura, which means he's going to remember how to defeat you. All you're doing is walking straight into a death trap!"_

_"No." He shook his head stubbornly. "Things will be different this time. I've had three thousand years to plan my revenge, whilst that _abomination_ still knows nothing of his past life. I've got the upper hand, and I will go to hell before I see him beat me again."_

_"You will go to hell! You'll go to hell, Bakura, and there won't be anything I can do to get you back again!" I stared at him with wide, impassioned violet eyes, refusing to let him escape my furious gaze. I was livid; with him, for being such a blockhead, with the Pharaoh, for being enough of an asshole to cause this mess in the first place, and with myself, for being weak enough to actually hurt over this. Bakura was right, after all – I had always known this day was coming._

_Somehow, though, I'd never quite believed it before this._

_"I won't let you go." My words were quite, but clear as day._

_Bakura blew a sad sigh through his lips. "You can't stop me, Marik."_

_"I can." I deliberately stand between him and the front door, staring at him with burning violet eyes. "I can and I will."_

_"Marik, we've proven on numerous occasions that I am faster than you." Despite himself, Bakura's lips twitched._

_I shook my head stubbornly. "I'm stronger."_

_"Not by that much." Bakura's eyes softened suddenly as he regarded my trembling, desperate form. He stepped forwards, closing the distance between us, and wrapped his arms about my shoulders in a rare show of affection, his thumbs rubbing tender circles in my back, feeling the scars there through the material of my shirt. I clutched onto him gladly, holding him close and wishing that this was more than a mere goodbye._

_Bakura looked up at me, his brown eyes meeting my violets, before he placed his palms on my cheeks, leaned forwards, and kissed me._

_It was slow, passionate, and beautiful._

_But it was also a final goodbye._

_When it was over, he pulled back without a word, easily sidestepping my lunging arms as he made straight for the door. He was through it in less than a second, not turning back once. It slammed behind him, and he was gone._

_I remained immobile in the hallway for a long time before I finally sank down onto the carpet._

_My grief was beyond tears._

...

"And that's it."

Marik's voice was strangely hollow, his hands bunched into fists on the tabletop, nails leaving four neat little imprints in his light brown palms. Blond hair covered his features as he leaned forwards, hiding his expression from the man across from him, not wanting to show the tears that still tracked their way down his cheeks. That day had been six months ago, but Marik felt the pain as keenly as if it was happening at this very moment.

"He just left." Marik's tone was still frighteningly empty, as if he was a shell with no centre, a human with no heart. "That fucking thief just left me, without so much as a goodbye. And I've never seen him since, and the Pharaoh fucking won, and everyone keeps telling me he's dead..."

"He isn't."

Touzoku's voice was clear and firm, louder than it had been the entire evening so far. Its dark tone rang through the air as grey eyes watched Marik carefully from underneath the red hood.

"What?" Marik's head lifted, blond hair falling back to reveal violet eyes still sparkling with unshed moisture. He swallowed, watching Touzoku with a lump in his throat, his mouth dry.

Grey eyes blinked, once. "How do you know Bakura didn't survive?"

Marik just stared, a frown marring his otherwise smooth brow. "Well, because, he ... he didn't! He'd have come back for me if he was still here, he ... he wouldn't have left me this long..."

"Gods, Marik." Grey eyes twinkled with amusement as dark hands reached up to the red hood, finally throwing it back from his face and revealing the man's darkly handsome features. "You really should start asking your dates their name before you go spilling your life story to them."

Marik froze.

Beneath the red hood, white hair spilled down a dark face, those grey eyes now dancing with amusement as they were turned fully on Marik. Lips pulled up into an impossibly familiar smirk, sharp white teeth flashing for a moment. Marik stared in utter shock and disbelief, his jaw slowly dropping wide as his brain scrambled to catch up with what his eyes were seeing. "What...? No ... No, no way..."

"Honestly, I'm disappointed you didn't recognise my voice." The smirk grew into a grin, lips twitching upwards in amusement. "I guess you've never listened to me, eh, Ishtar?"

Marik stumbled over his words, staring in awe at the white hair. This was impossible, there was no way ... this was totally impossible... "...Bakura...?!"

The grin stretched even further as grey eyes warmed. "That I am, Marik. Back in the flesh and all."

Marik stopped thinking.

He moved on absolute instinct, forgetting that they were in the middle of the busy restaurant, under the watchful eyes of his siblings, no less. Marik flung himself haphazardly across the table, landing rather indecently in Bakura's lap as he ran his hands all over his face, running fingers through white hair as he focused back on that familiar smirk, violet eyes widened in shock and disbelief. How could it really be...

Bakura smirked up at him, winding his arms tightly about Marik's hips. "Seen enough?"

That dark voice was enough to convince him.

Without further consideration, Marik pressed his lips tightly to the man's, and then he knew for sure that it really was Bakura under him, because no one else could kiss like that, with sharp teeth impossibly tender and a tongue so forceful that it almost sent Marik reeling backwards onto the floor. They kissed for immeasurable minutes, ignoring the slightly disgusted or shocked looks from the people around them, not the least of which was Ishizu's, focused instead on each other and the impossible fact that they were somehow back together again.

Bakura eventually pulled back for air, drawing a painful breath into his lungs as he met Marik's bright violet gaze. Marik stared back at him with shock and disbelief still blotting his otherwise ecstatic expression, unable to believe the fact that Bakura was here, back with him, under his fingertips.

"How – " Marik started, but Bakura shushed him with a quick finger to the lips.

"Not here." Bakura nodded to Ishizu and Odion, who were peering at the two of them with worried expressions. Bakura smirked ruefully. "Your siblings have never been my biggest fans. I don't think that giving them any other reasons to hate me is a good idea, hmm?"

Marik blinked in shock, the voice and turn of expression so wonderfully familiar that he couldn't help but lean down and press his lips to Bakura's again. But Bakura was right; the restaurant really wasn't the right place for their reunion. They would need to get out.

But Marik just could not bring himself to move.

"How the fuck are you here?" Marik's voice was a little higher than normal, his hands tight on Bakura's shoulders as he stared in something close to awe at Bakura's new face. "And what's with the looks? You're so different..."

"This is my original body, Marik." Bakura shook his head, grey eyes dancing. "I've told you about it before, I'm positive."

Marik just kept staring, silent, so Bakura snorted with laughter, wrapping long arms around Marik to keep him firmly ensconced on his lap. "I went back to the Memory World, much as you tried to stop me, and yes, the Pharaoh won. But, when the demon Zorc was destroyed, I was set free from my deal with him and allowed to return, to live the life I should have done three thousand years ago. Hence the old body."

Marik looked incredulously down at Bakura, fingers playing with the ends of his hair as he tried to process the new information. "So ... you're back, for real?"

Bakura nodded, smirk tugging at his mouth again.

Marik pursed his lips. "In your own body?"

"Definitely my own body," Bakura nodded with a grin.

"No more Ryou?"

Bakura's lip curled. "No more Ryou."

"...Good." Marik sniffed. "I was getting fed up of waking up next to him instead of you in the mornings."

Bakura's lips stretched wider. "Oh, I have missed you."

Without another word, dark hands, darker than Marik's, pulled Marik's blond head down to meet his, their lips joining again in a kiss that sealed their fate.

They left the restaurant hand-in-hand, returning to the life they once knew. Siblings, Pharaohs, and Items be damned, Bakura and Marik were going to be together.

And this time, nothing could split them apart.

**Cliche ending FTW. XD**

**So, I hope you enjoyed this little batch of craziness. As I said, it turned much longer than I expected, but hey, that isn't necessarily a bad thing, right? I do hope you enjoyed it. Drop me a review if you're of a mind, I'd love to know what you think. Thank you for reading! - Jem**


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